


sick

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Punctuation and Other Niceties, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic, strep throat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Anonymous asked:As stubborn as your creative genius wants him to be--you flatter melucky for you, i already had some sick!tony half finished; unluckily, tony is kind of a pushover. he is sick as a dog though, so i hope this helps you feel a little bit better anywayget well quick, sweets! <3





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> As stubborn as your creative genius wants him to be  
> \--  
> you flatter me
> 
> lucky for you, i already had some sick!tony half finished; unluckily, tony is kind of a pushover. he is sick as a dog though, so i hope this helps you feel a little bit better anyway
> 
> get well quick, sweets! <3

tony doesn’t notice at first

it starts with a niggling headache and the urge to sleep

but he’s tired like, 400% of the time so that’s not exactly news

it doesn’t ring any alarm bells

so he downs some more coffee and eats some more nuts and tosses back a couple of advil and gets back to work

“pepperrrr” he whines when she comes by to drag him out of the shop. “my head hurts, i don’t wanna, don’t make me.”

pepper tilts her head and purses her lips and says with exaggerated patience, “tony, these meetings have been scheduled for three months. you are coming. take some aspirin and get dressed.”

tony grumbles and drags his feet and does what he’s told because goddammit pepper has got him by the balls

maybe not literally right now, but sometimes literally

and if that’s not a good enough reason then what is

anyway he goes

and god, his head really does hurt

listening to corporate blow-hards blow doesn’t do much to help

he rubs the aching sockets of his eyes and the throbbing spot in the middle of his forehead

pepper glares at him and he stretches his face, schooling his expression and trying hard to pay attention

when the meeting ends, tony is startled by the rest of the table rising

he blinks, realizing he spaced out and rubs his fingers together to dispel the sweat that’s collected on his fingertips

he quickly wipes his hand as discreet as he can on his suit leg and rises to shake hands and bid them farewell

pepper thanks them and hands out cards and generally proves herself to be absurdly competent and professional and then she ushers them out the door and closes it behind them

then she turns around, blocking his way out, and tony frowns

“what’s going on with you?” she asks, suspicious.

“nothing’s going on with me?” he says

pepper gives him a look of absolute disbelief

“tony, i realize i was not nearly observant enough during the whole palladium poison debacle, but i am paying attention now and there is definitely something going on with you.”

she presses her lips together and then says, quickly, like it’s more likely to be true if she takes her time, “are you dying again?”

tony frowns. “what? no.”

pepper’s expression softens and she steps forward, the hard edges of her professional persona slipping away as she reaches to put her hand to his cheek.

tony closes his eyes, leaning into her touch.

“oh my god, tony,” pepper says and he feels her other hand on his other cheek. “you’re burning up.”

“hm?”

“are you sick?” she demands, but she’s clearly not asking for an answer. “you said you had a headache not that you were _sick.”_

"i’m not sick,” tony mutters, but actually…

he does feel like shit, and that would explain a lot

“oh my god,” pepper mutters again, exasperated and fond. her skin feels so good on his face. tony tries to lean closer, to get more contact with it, but pepper pushes him back

“oh no, stay back. you cannot get me sick, tony.”

he whines.

“i’ll call steve and have him meet you.”

tony’s eyes pop open. “i can go home?”

pepper rolls her eyes. “i’m not going to have you spreading the plague around the office. don’t think you’re going back to your workshop either, steve is taking you straight to bed.”

tony huffs. “hardball.”

“always.”

she escorts him down to the curb and sees him into happy’s car

tony falls asleep on the way back to the tower. when he wakes up, it’s brain-stabbingly bright.

steve is looking down at him, haloed in blinding light.

“tony, what happened?” he says, voice thick with concern

“i don’t know,” he says, and it’s like his throat’s filled with shards of glass

he winces and coughs and that makes it even worse

“you sound awful,” steve says.

tony moves to climb out of the car and his knees wobble and go to liquid. he starts to go down and steve lets out a surprised noise, lunging forward to catch him

“tony,” steve breathes into his hair, “why didn’t you tell pepper you were sick?”

“oh god,” tony moans, regrets it, and presses his face into steve’s shoulder. he feels awful.

he’s not really sure how it happens, but steve gets him upstairs to the bedroom they share with pepper. he’s totally useless while steve gets him out of his suit

the shards of glass have become knives that stick all the way down into his chest and he doesn’t even want to move

he feels steve kiss his temple and that feels good because his skin is cool against tony’s, which should be worrying because steve is never cool, but it’s too much effort to think about it

tony falls asleep after that

when he wakes up again it’s to the sound of voices, and bodies on either side of him, over him

“tony. tony, honey, wake up.”

he makes a disgruntled noise of complaint and immediately wishes he were still asleep

he’s shivering, hot and cold at the same time and his throat hurts impossibly worse

moving it hurts, not moving it hurts, it just hurts

“come on, tony, let bruce have a look at you, okay?” steve says, and tony feels his broad hands lifting him, pillows being pushed in behind his head to prop him up

“just let me sleep,” he moans and he sounds like hell

after that he’s vaguely aware of words like ‘temperature’ and ‘strep throat’ and ‘oh tony’

he feels hands on his throat and one stroking circles on his palm

he must fall asleep because he wakes up again

this time he feels like cold shit on toast, but he’s awake and coherent enough to feel the thick coat of gross on every surface of his mouth

“hey,” pepper says, when he shifts his head and a thumb strokes his cheek. “oh my god, tony?”

“what the hell happened?” he tries to say, but nothing comes out, nothing but sparks of white hot pain

he tries again, but no dice, all he gets is the sensation of tiny cuts up the length of his esophagus

“bruce said you might lose your voice,” pepper says and he can feel her hand on his back, stroking in anxious little circles. “god, you never do anything halfway, do you, tony?”

he feels like shit and he can’t talk, so tony doesn’t try, he just buries his face against her hip and tries to will himself back into unconsciousness

after awhile he hears steve’s voice and pepper coaxes him up; he’s sweaty and sticky and can’t believe she’s actually been sitting in bed with him like this

they make him eat soup and it’s not even that warm, but it feels like it’s boiling in his throat

then they make him drink juice and it’s not even that cold, but it feels like razor blades

he kind of wants to cry

unfortunately, the worst of it seems to have passed, and tony is now awake for every miserable moment

either pepper or steve is always around—at least until tony throws a tantrum over the fact that they’re _hovering_ and hurls three pillows, throat crackling as he tries vainly to shout at them. any semblance of his voice he may have been getting back is destroyed.

he can’t talk, so he can’t occupy himself with JARVIS. he tries a tablet, but after ten minutes his arms are shaking from trying to hold it. when he tries lying down with it propped up against a pillow, his neck protests and considering how damn sore it is already, that’s not going to cut it.

for awhile he lies there alone, kicking the covers off and pulling them back on as his fever fluctuates; it’s hell.

when steve pokes his head tentatively around the door, tony whimpers and reaches for him

“hey,” steve says gently, and crosses to the bed. before he’s even sat down, tony’s fingers are curling into the fabric of his sweats, pulling. “whoa, whoa, okay,” steve says, sitting down faster, one hand grabbing at the waistband to keep them from sliding off. “are you feeling any better?”

tony laughs derisively, which he immediately regrets as white hot blades arc from his stomach to the tip of his tongue

he’s so goddamned tired and bored and so miserable

“aw, tony,” steve murmurs, aching, and it takes a second for tony to realize why

he’s curled around steve’s waist, face buried in his stomach, and his shoulders are shuddering. hot, salty tears burn his cheeks and god, he hates _everything_ right now. everything except steve’s broad palm rubbing circles in the center of his back.

the other hand is stroking the back of his head. “if you sit up we can get some of that spray in you. i know it doesn’t last long, but it’s gotta be better than nothing, right?”

tony tries to stop, but his body won’t listen, so he finally relents and lets steve help him sit, despite the tears still welling up and slipping down his cheeks into the scruff covering his jaw. steve steadies him with a hand around his neck and then tilts his own chin downward so that he can see as he sprays the medication into tony’s mouth

it’s wet and tastes like some terrible supposed-to-be-candy-flavored chemical concoction, but after a few seconds the pain starts to fade. the relief is immense and just about gets him started crying all over again. he leans into steve’s chest and signs over and over again _sorry, sorry, sorry_

they’ve all learned at least basic ASL for clint and it’s turned out to be useful for a hell of a lot of other things

steve covers his hand and presses it down, stilling it’s motion. he kisses the top of tony’s head and cradles him close. “it’s okay, tony. i know how you feel.”

tony bites back his laugh, because it will hurt. but of course steve does.

things get better after that, slowly.

the avengers all get in on his care, and he spends pretty much all his time bundled up on the living room couch with someone. pepper brings him soups and ice creams from all across the city and even stays home halfway through the week to cuddle with him. if not for how utterly maddening it is to have all this time to work and no energy to do it, he might actually enjoy it.

his voice comes back at a rasp on day six and by dusk he’s worn it out again.

pepper sighs and smiles and kisses his cheek. “if you’d just let it heal, you’d recover so much more quickly and you could get back to work that much sooner.”

tony wrinkles his nose because he can’t verbalize what a bunch of shit he thinks that is.

it takes a full two weeks before his voice is strong again and the pain in his throat has finally faded to a faint ache that only presents itself when he yells.

he sighs with relief as he settles onto one of the stools in the workshop. “rise and shine, princess,” he calls.

“it’s good to see you back up and about, sir,” jarvis replies and tony grins, spinning his stool around and popping a handful of crisp, thin-cut potato chips into his mouth.

“and it’s good to be it, J.”


End file.
